


Ford in Amphibia

by anistarrose



Category: Amphibia (Cartoon), Gravity Falls
Genre: Crossover, Gen, doesn't require much prior knowledge of Amphibia, mostly humor with brief hints of angst, started as crack but turned into a semi-serious discussion of magic and parallel dimensions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:43:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anistarrose/pseuds/anistarrose
Summary: Anne and the Plantar family take in an eccentric new guest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of… 2? 3? Probably somewhere in that ballpark, but it really depends on if the still-progressing canon of Amphibia throws me anything new. This chapter doesn’t require much Amphibia prior knowledge to read, though — as long as you’ve seen the first pair of episodes, you’ll be fine!

“Anne! Anne? Anne, you gotta wake up! It’s an emergency!”

“Ugh, what?” Anne sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes as she checked the time on her phone. “Five A.M.? What the heck is going on, Sprig?”

“The whole town’s outside our door! And they’re asking for _you_ , and saying it’s urgent!”

Sure enough, a muffled slamming noise sounded from aboveground, followed by of a chorus of distressed ribbits.

“But… I didn’t even _do_ anything bad yesterday! What do they want with me?”

“Doesn’t matter! We can’t afford them bringing out the battering ram to bust down our door again, so c’mon!” Sprig grabbed Anne by the hand, and dragged her upstairs.

There was thankfully no battering ram in sight when Anne threw open the door to face the citizens of Wartwood, but it looked like Sprig hadn’t lied about the whole town being outside. He had, however, neglected to mention that nearly all of them were wielding torches, pitchforks, and other staple weapons of angry mobs.

“Here she is, the girl of the hour!” Sprig offered weakly. “… Please don’t kill her?”

One-Eyed Wally sprung forward, and Anne flinched — but rather than attacking, he cast his pitchfork to the ground, and took her by the hands. He gave a quick bow, and Anne realized his one golden eye was wet with tears as his head bounced back up to meet her gaze.

“Thank goodness you’re here! You’re the only one who can save us now! Please, my lady, I beseech you!”

“Uh… not sure I’m following what’s going on here…”

“Another foul beast has been spotted roaming these parts,” Mayor Toadstool explained, pushing his way to the front of the ground. “Go on and tell them what you saw, Wally. Be brave.”

Wally’s hands trembled as he spoke. “It had a haggard gray mane, and its eyes reflected red light brighter than the moon itself! It loomed over me like a mountain, and it — it —”

He rummaged around in his pockets, and pulled out a few charred pieces of what must have once been a tree branch. “It fired bolts of lightning out of its arm! It just barely missed me, but it reduced a mighty old oak to ash in a single strike!”

“But since we’ve tamed a loyal beast of our own, she can drive it away for us!” Toadstool finished. “Then the town will be saved, and none of us will have to risk our precious lives fighting it!”

“What?!” Anne gasped. “You really think _I_ could chase off something like that? And — and even if I could, I’m not your _attack dog_!”

A murmur went through the crowd, and Toadstool looked seriously ready to debate the attack dog comment, but Sprig spoke up before he could say anything.

“Anne, wait! You should hear them out — you know how everything gets overblown whenever Wally’s the one telling the story. Maybe it’s another lost human, and this whole situation is just a misunderstanding!”

“Look, I accepted a while back that I’m the only human in this world,” Anne shot back. “If there were more, we would’ve crossed paths by now for sure! But… I guess Wally _is_ kind of prone to overblowing things…”

She sighed. “Okay, tell you what. I’m _not_ fighting that beast, but tell me where you last saw it, and I’ll do some recon on it for you guys.”

Wally immediately burst into tears. “You’re a hero!” he blubbered. “This town will owe you a debt for the rest of your days!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that —” Toadstool cut in.

It was only then that Hop Pop walked into the living room, stifling a yawn. “Kids? What’s all this commotion about? Anne?”

Anne darted past him, back into the basement, and emerged a minute later wielding her tennis racquet. 

“No time to explain! Gotta go risk my life for strangers by hunting a lightning monster!”

“See you soon!” Sprig added as the two of them sprinted off into the early morning light. “Maybe we’ll bring back another monster from the woods, and let them live in our house too!”

***

Ford’s patience for the frog dimension was wearing thin. 

It had felt (quite literally) like a breath of fresh air at first, after spending close to a week consorting with unsavory characters in the alleyways of a sprawling, smog-filled metropolis — but limited signs of civilization meant traipsing through long swaths of muddy terrain, and mud meant that new boots would be ruined and silent movement would be nearly impossible, and… well, he could go on and on about why he hated swamp environments. The list of inconveniences just never seemed to end.

Ford didn’t actually mind amphibians — in fact, they accounted for some of his favorite anomalies back in Gravity Falls. He didn’t even mind the anthropomorphic frogs that watched him from afar and then fled before he could approach them — directions would have been convenient, sure, but he still had faith in his navigation abilities.

No, what he hated were the frogs that crept up behind him at the earliest hours of the morning, and nearly gave him a heart attack because they just happened to have BRIGHT YELLOW EYES. Or worse, in the case of today’s encounter, just ONE bright yellow eye. Why couldn’t _those_ frogs be the ones who minded their own business?!

A branch snapped behind him, and he whirled around, gun in hand.

“Come out where I can see you!” he barked. “I’m willing to resolve this peacefully if you are, but try anything funny and I won’t hesitate to shoot!”

A bush a few feet away let out a small whimper, followed by a series of hushed whispers like it was having a conversation with itself. Finally, the culprits peered out, hands above their heads… 

_Human_ hands, in one case.

“There are humans in this dimension?” Ford asked, just as the girl blurted out: “Wait, are you a human too? How did _you_ get here?”

There was an awkward pause, before Ford replied: “Even if we are of the same species, there’s no guarantee we come from the same dimension.” 

“Are you some kind of space pirate? Am I on another planet?” the girl asked at the same time, speaking over him. “Or a time traveler? Have I been in prehistoric times all along?”

“Uh… not exactly either of those, but closer to the first one,” Ford told her. 

This didn’t _feel_ like a trap. The human girl seemed genuinely inquisitive, and her frog companion looked scared out of his wits, not scheming. “I apologize for being so hostile before. I’ve just been on guard lately.”

“It’s fine. I did pretty much the same thing when I got here too,” the girl assured him. “I’m Anne Boonchuy, and this is my buddy Sprig. Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise. I’m Ford.”

“ _Just_ Ford? What, no last names on your planet?”

Ford sighed. “No, I just don’t like sharing personal information. You never know what identity thieves might lurk in unfamiliar worlds.”

It was his go-to lie when dealing with kids, since it sounded a lot less intimidating than _there are a lot of extremely ruthless people after me and the less I tell you about myself, the less likely they are to be a threat to you_. He didn’t think Bill’s minions would have much influence here, but it didn’t hurt to err on the side of caution.

He and Anne shook hands, and he couldn’t help but cringe slightly as she looked at his fingers and frowned in confusion.

“I can’t help but notice you’ve got, uh, more than the normal number of fingers… or is six fingers normal where you come from?”

“No, I carry a rare genetic mutation that causes polydactyly. I’ve always been something of an anomalous case, even in the world I hail from.”

“Wow, you sound like a pretty smart guy.”

“Well, I would hope so! My eleven PhD’s didn’t earn themselves.”

“Dang, you _are_ smart!” Anne’s eyes lit up. “Hey, want to come back home with us? I’ve got some, uh… weird odds and ends from my world that I want an expert opinion on.”

“I dunno,” Sprig piped up, speaking for the first time since his exchange with Anne in the bush. “It worked out well when I brought you home, but… are you _sure_ he’s not gonna eat us? He feels like the type of person who would eat us — he’s too _fluffy_ for it to be anything but a trick, to make him look less threatening!”

“Oh, it’s just my beard that’s scaring you?” Ford asked, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and squinting as he held it just beneath his chin and flicked the wheel. “Because I can get rid of this real quick if I just — ah, here we go!”

He let the blaze travel up his face for a few seconds before patting it out, ignoring Anne and Sprig’s slack-jawed expressions.

“Dude,” Anne gasped. “Did you just set your face on fire?”

“Well, how else am I going to get rid of a whole beard in under thirty seconds? Not by shaving, that’s for sure.”

***

Anne motioned for Ford to sit down, and he did so as she unfolded the cloth concealing the object resting in her lap. The Plantar family had been surprisingly charitable towards Ford, feeding him breakfast and insisting that the couch was always available if he needed somewhere to sleep — just as charitable as they’d apparently been to Anne, when she’d abruptly been tossed into their lives not two weeks before.

She’d given the summary of her story over breakfast, and in return, he’d explained the very basics of his story to them: that he seeked to eventually overthrow a tyrant who threatened many parts of the multiverse, and that he traveled from dimension to dimension with very little control over where he would end up. Anne had seemed disappointed to hear that second part — presumably because she’d been hoping Ford would have a way to get her home.

But maybe, not all hope was lost in that regard just yet.

“This is the music box that brought me to this world,” Anne explained, tossing aside the cloth. “When I opened it for the first time, it flashed all colorful and I woke up here, but it hasn’t worked since.”

“Peculiar,” Ford muttered. “Where exactly did you find this music box?”

“Just a weird knickknack shop,” Anne answered, a little two quickly.

“May I hold it for a moment?”

“Sure.” 

She handed it to him. It was metallic and oddly cold, far colder than anything should have been on this sweltering day — almost as if it was magically draining the heat from Ford’s hands. He held his wrist in front of it and pressed a button on his watch, and a grid of laser dots were projected onto it, signifying a scan in progress.

“Those gems were more colorful when I first found it,” Anne explained. “But they’ve been gray ever since I got here.”

“Hmm. Well, here’s your problem: this box was once a vessel for a large amount of magical energy, but that energy has since been depleted — presumably when it brought you to this world. That’s probably why the gems lost their color, and why it can’t transport you back anymore… but if you were able to _recharge_ that supply of magical energy somehow, I think there’s good odds it would take you home. Either that, or it would take you an even more foreign dimension of even weirder creatures. No way to know for sure unless you try?”

“Well, that’s the best lead I’ve got by a long shot,” Anne told him. “How do I recharge it?”

Ford shrugged. “Good question. I’ve got no clue.”

“What? C’mon, aren’t any of your PhD’s in cursed music boxes?”

Ford shook his head. “Magic is a fickle thing, and it works differently in almost every dimension. In one world, you might learn how to cast a spell that rains bolts of lightning down on your enemies, but in another, you might barely be able to summon a spark using the same ritual. Even if I’d encountered a relic like this before, there’s no guarantee that yours would obey the same rules.”

“Oh.” Anne’s face fell. “Well, thanks for your help anyway.”

“Keep you chin up,” Ford told her. “Your search for answers has only just begun — there’s still plenty more research to do, and plenty more chances to have a eureka moment! And if you have any questions of the scientific sort… well, I’m not sticking around forever, but while I’m here, don’t hesitate to ask me anything.”

“Thanks. Will do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are welcomed as always! I have a couple more ideas for this crossover, so stay tuned for more shenanigans!
> 
> (Find it on [tumblr](https://anistarrose.tumblr.com/post/185872305176/ford-in-amphibia) too!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford is subjected to mild bullying, and the gang decides to hunt an endangered species but makes an unexpected new friend along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references a few more episodes of Amphibia than the last one, but doesn’t spoil any overarching plot details past the first episode, so it should be possible to read even if you’re not caught up. This is starting to look like it’ll eventually wind up as four-chapter fic, so stay tuned for more!

Ford sat on the couch next to Anne, watching intently as she flicked through albums of photos on her phone.

“Here’s my cat, Domino — oh, and here she is again, in my parents’ kitchen! What a little troublemaker!”

“She’s quite precious,” Ford agreed. “You say you have music on this device too?”

“Of course!” Anne answered. “I’ve got _all_ the best tunes — stuff to dance to, stuff you can sing along with, stuff to listen to as you think about how far you are from home and regret your life choices —”

“Do you have anything by Eurythmics? Or Talking Heads?”

Anne stared at Ford blankly.

“Or do you prefer classical? _The Planets_ by Holst, maybe?”

“Uh, I’ve got All Star by Smash Mouth —”

“Mention that song again and you’re _dead_ to me,” Ford growled.

There was an awkward pause, and then Ford sighed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be surprised that we appreciate different aspects of human culture. You’re young, and I… left my dimension a _very_ long time ago.”

“That’s, um — that’s too bad,” Anne stammered, not really knowing what to say. “Uh… do you want to keep looking at pictures?” she finally asked.

Ford didn’t say no, so she opened a new album. “Here’s some of me and Sprig, and of some wildlife we saw the other day — oh, and here’s where I tried to teach Sprig how to use the camera! You can tell because it’s all blurry and —”

“Wait!” Ford interrupted. “Go back! To the one with the caterpillar — er, the cat-erpillar, rather!”

“This one?” Anne pulled up a picture of a black, orange, and red cat-erpillar glimpsed from across a meadow.

“That’s it! See the flame pattern, and those prominent tufts on the neck? That’s the endangered Sunburst Mountain Cat-erpillar!”

“Whoa, are you like a conservation expert?” Sprig asked, springing onto the couch. “Do you need to capture it and get it to breed with others of its kind to save the species?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Ford told them. “I need a sample of its chrysalis for my own use — and ideally I won’t seriously harm any specimens, but you never know!”

Noticing Anne and Sprig’s mildly horrified looks, he went on: “Let me explain. For years now, I’ve planning a mission to a very dangerous dimension, of which the atmosphere is contaminated with just about every pollutant imaginable. There will be zero margin for error on this mission, but if I inhale too many of those pollutants, they’ll almost certainly hamper my performance. So for the past few weeks, I’ve been searching for a solution…”

He pulled a carefully rolled-up piece of paper from his pocket, and spread it out in his lap to reveal a detailed scientific drawing of the cat-erpillar and its cocoon, along with a sketch of a mountain with wisps of smoke emanating from the peak.

“Every generation of the Sunburst Mountain Cat-erpillar pupates near volcanic vents, and as a result, they’ve evolved so that their chrysalides absorb and break down a wide variety of toxins. I learned of their existence shortly after coming to your world, and I’ve been trying to track one down ever since in the hope that harvesting some of that chrysalis material would help me design an air filter to get around that pollution problem — but unfortunately, the location of Sunburst Mountain has been lost to time, since those vents are dormant most of the year. The whole time I’ve been here in the valley, I’ve just been stumbling around blindly without glimpsing hide nor hair of any of the right cat-erpillar species.”

He flipped his paper over, and pulled out a pen. “The period of vent activity should only last another week or two this year, and at this rate I’m probably going to miss it — but if you could tell me where you saw that specimen the other day, then I’d have my best lead yet!”

“Cool!” Sprig exclaimed, at the same time that Anne spoke up:

“I gotta admit, tracking down a lost volcano sounds like loads of fun, but… cat-erpillars are a lot more dangerous than they look. Sprig can tell you about the Domino Two incident — did _not_ end well for anyone, except maybe Domino Two herself.”

“Oh, I know how to handle myself, don’t worry! I’ve conquered _many_ foes more deadly than a mere —”

They were interrupted by a yelp as Hop Pop jumped straight up, slamming into the ceiling. 

“Darn it, Ford, I know you mean us no harm, but every time I walk by here I think there’s an owl perched on our couch and my heart skips a beat!” He rubbed his head, and began collecting the books he’d dropped.

Sprig snapped his fingers. “That’s it, an owl! I knew he reminded me of _something_ predatory!”

“What?” Ford scowled. “I do _not_ look like an owl!”

“Uh, except you kinda do!” Polly chimed in, bouncing into the living room behind Hop Pop. “There’s your big wide eyes, and the way your eyebrows jump up and your head whirls right around whenever you hear something behind you — oh, and the way your cloak billows behind you like giant wings!”

“You’ve got to be joking! I —”

“Such a majestic and terrifying creature!” Polly went on, tugging on Ford’s cloak. “You are the swift and deadly hunter I wish to emulate! Will you teach me your ways?”

Ford’s mouth opened and then closed, at a loss for words, but Anne cut in.

“Hey, that’s enough. Owls are supposed to be _wise_ , remember? Ford set his face on fire less than five minutes after we met him. I think that instantly disqualifies him from owl resemblance.”

Ford just shook his head as Anne and Hop Pop cackled.

“And did you _see_ how he slept on the couch last night?” Sprig added. “His face was buried in a whole stack of pillows and his feet were practically out the window! No majestic old owl would sleep like that!”

“I still want to see him in action, though,” Polly declared. “What do you hunt, old man? Tell me so that I may watch you and learn your ways of stealth and dismemberment!”

“I’m not planning to dismember any endangered species if I can avoid it,” Ford corrected her. “But you’re welcome to come with me anyways. The more eyes who know this area, the better!”

“Ooh, can we take Bessie?” Sprig asked. “Anne can drive us!”

Hop Pop’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. I’ve got errands to run, and I’m not sure how I feel about letting you all run off without a chaperone…”

Ford stifled a laugh. “Hopadiah, I’ve earned degrees in everything from cryptobiology to quantum physics — I’m basically the best chaperone these kids could hope for. Think of it as an educational outing!”

“Oh, well why didn’t you say so? That’s fine, then — just be sure to be back before nightfall!”

“Woo-hoo!” Anne cheered. “Time for an adventure with the weird hobo scientist from outer space that we adopted!”

“Adventure! Adventure! Adventure!” Sprig and Polly chanted. Anne joined in almost immediately, and after a moment, Ford did too.

***

“Okay, I think this is where we saw it,” Anne announced as Bessie the snail slowed to a halt at the edge of a clearing. The meadow was dotted with patches of mud, and seemed devoid of any life besides a lone chickfly that squawked and flew off as the gang dismounted.

“It looks… swampier than last time,” Sprig mused. “Did it rain over here or something?”

Ford knelt down in front of one of the patches of exposed mud, removing his glove to run a finger along the edge. “If anything, it looks like a creature tore up the grass at the surface while hunting here, revealing the damp earth underneath.”

“But these claw markings are huge! Whatever made them must be bigger than me!” Anne shuddered. “Ford, do you know why everything is so _giant_ here?”

“Not for sure, but I can certainly speculate!” Ford’s face lit up. “For one thing, my preliminary scans have shown that there’s more oxygen in the atmosphere of this dimension than there is in the environment either you or I would’ve came from, which paleontology suggests may allow for life to grow larger.”

“Ugh, forget I asked,” Anne muttered, but Sprig bounded over to Ford’s side, eyes wide.

“Wow, really? If you and Anne keep breathing our air, will you get bigger too?”

“Not necessarily due to the oxygen concentrations,” Ford told him, “but that’s not the only difference between our dimensions! Gravity is slightly weaker here too, which most importantly means that it’ll be easier for the skeletons of megafauna to support their body mass, but also could cause Anne and I to pick up a few extra millimeters when our spinal columns expand. The effect should be subtle, but less weight pressing our vertebrae together means we’ll stand a little taller.”

“You’re not a majestic owlish hunter after all,” Polly groaned. “You’re just a _nerd_.”

“He’s a brave adventurer _and_ he knows all about everything!” Sprig told her. “I want to be just like him when I grow up!”

“Two nerds,” Polly grumbled.

“Hey, guys?” Anne poked Sprig in the shoulder with a stick. “There’s something coming this way, and it’s kinda… on fire?”

“Where?” Ford leapt to his feet. “Is it a cat-erpillar?”

“No, it’s more like… an amorphous blob.” Anne pointed towards the creature, which had made its way almost halfway across the clearing. “I’d stay back, in case it explodes in our faces… oh, or you could just walk right up to it! That too!”

“Would you look at that!” Ford exclaimed, kneeling at the creature’s side. “I hadn’t expected to find any cryptozoological oddities I was familiar with here!”

“Cryptozoological?” Sprig tilted his head. “I thought that stuff was all bogus.”

“As in, like, cryptids?” Anne asked. “I saw a Moss-Man here once, does that count?”

Ford plucked a twig from the ground and placed it in the palm of his hand, which he then slowly extended towards the anomaly. The mass of its body seemed to be concentrated in a blob of mud that spilled across the ground with a radius of about half a foot and a height of about five inches at its highest point, from which several plumes of glowing green gas extended. 

Two small, dark eyes blinked within the largest plume, and a muddy tendril extended from the creature’s base. For a moment, the mud began to pool in Ford’s hand, but then it pulled the twig back to its main body with a sudden _slurp_ , leaving almost no dirt or moisture behind whatsoever. The twig vanished inside the muddy blob, and the creature gurgled in satisfaction.

Ford ran a hand through the fiery-looking plumes and Anne cringed, but he didn’t get burned. The creature’s flickering eyes widened as it responded with some semblance of a purr, apparently eager for more petting.

“Fascinating! I’ve encountered Scampfires back home, but I think this individual might be better referred to as a ‘Swampfire!’ Although technically speaking, there doesn’t seem to be any actual fire involved — I suspect it’s fueled by phosphorus and hydrocarbon compounds from that muddy blob of biomass, which undergo some form chemiluminescence to produce light without a substantial amount of heat.”

“Is it dangerous?” Polly asked. “Or will it help us on our quest?”

“Neither, I think,” Ford replied. “It seems perfectly content to just ooze along here and keep absorbing plant matter while we head on our way — although, I should really get a quick sketch first!” He pulled out a pen and notebook, adjusted his sitting position, and set to work.

“What happened to finding the cat-erpillar?” Anne groaned. “I thought that was some critically vital mission or something!”

“Oh, it is!” Ford told her. “But it’s not every day one gets to discover and catalog a new anomaly! You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Swampfires exist in my dimension too, but are endangered due to habitat loss… Humanity really needs to do a better job of preserving wetlands and all the biodiversity they contain…”

Sprig peered over Ford’s shoulder at his work — a set of simple drawings, cartoonish yet detailed enough to capture all the details of the Swampfire’s form in multiple poses. “Wow! You drew that so fast!”

“Thank you, I’ve been doing this for quite a while! Now, Swampy, if you could hold that pose for just a moment…”

Swampy, naturally, chose that moment to bolt, darting back between the trees with surprising speed as its lights dimmed.

“Drat. Well, what I’ve got down here is still better than nothing —”

“Hey, guys?” Anne asked. “Is it just me, or did a really big shadow just pass over us?”

In unison, the four of them looked up. Above, a massive shape blocked out the sun — a shape with wide eyes, a pointed beak, and long, silently flapping wings.

“Scatter!” Ford shouted as the owl dove towards the clearing, and the children bolted as its talons raked the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are appreciated as always!
> 
> This was very fun to write, as fics with Ford often are, because I got to use him as an excuse to ramble about science! Since Sprig showed an interest in science in “Family Shrub,” I figured he’d be pretty inquisitive, and look up to the whole adventurer-scientist deal Ford has going on. 
> 
> Swampy the Swampfire, also known as the best character I’ve ever written about, is based partly off the Scampfires from Journal 3, and partly off of the “will-o-the-wisp” ghost lights, which are believed to be a result of gases produced in wetlands by decaying plants. [(The endangered due to habitat loss detail Ford mentions isn’t a joke, either — according to Wikipedia, will-o-the-wisp sightings are rarer nowadays, and it’s probably because wetlands keep getting destroyed. We need to save the Swampfires!)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Will-o%27-the-wisp)


End file.
